Romola had one leg
in her panties and the other caught in the duvet when the doorbell rang.
"Quick!" she whispered urgently, "Get your clothes on
and hide!"
The duvet hissed with disappointment as she withdrew her shapely ankle
from its clinging embrace. A naked figure clutching a pair of women's
jeans several sizes two small for it's abnormally long legs, leapt off
the bed and stumbled into the bathroom.
"Shit!" she exclaimed as she snagged her bra strap on an ornate
Chinese wind chime hanging from the ceiling. The wind chime trilled
with excitement as she struggled into a tee shirt and pulled on a pair
of jeans. What the jeans felt was entirely drowned out by the sound
of someone shouting loudly through the letterbox. Romola ran down the
hall and cautiously opened the door.

"Oh it's you, Gerald. I thought it was that psycho dyke."
"Do I look like a lesbian policewoman?"
"No, but you were making enough noise for one."
"I was worried sick about you, darling. I haven't heard from you
for three days."
"I was busy..."
"Are you going to take your foot out of the door?"
"Not until you apologise for behaving like a total wanker."
"OK — I apologise. Can I come in now?"
"If you must."
Gerald attempted to kiss her but Romola ducked her head and flounced
into the lounge.
"How's Yyerg?"
"He's sleeping," she answered, hiding her face to conceal
the colour mounting to her cheeks.
"Caught you at a bad time, have I?"
"I — I was asleep."
"I guessed that from the way your knickers were hanging out of
your flies."
Romola swore and zipped up her jeans.
"So what are you doing tonight?"
"Soaking in a hot bath."
"And afterwards?"
"Portia's coming over."
"And then?"
"What do you think?"
"You're not — you're not SLEEPING with Portia, as well, are you?"
"As well as what?"
"C' mon. I've seen you drooling over the alien. I wouldn't be surprised
if you're shagging him."
"I am NOT sleeping with Portia," said Romola, ignoring his
second question. I sleep with men, remember?"
"I'm a man".

"No you're not, Gerald. I thought you were, but last Saturday
afternoon I discovered you're just another wanker and if you don't take
you hand off my leg I'm going to shove this wine glass up your backside."
"No chance of a shag, then?"
"NO!"
"What about tomorrow?"
"I'm going shopping with Yyerg"
Gerald gaped at her. "Sh-shopping with Yyerg?"
"Yup."
"B-but won't he be just a little bit conspicuous?"
"Not when Portia and I have finished giving him a makeover."
"Shouldn't I come with you?"
"You won't have time."
"Why not?"
"Because Yyerg's given me a list of stuff you need to get to fix
his ship."
"Like what?"
"Computer stuff. Electronic thingies. Here — read it yourself."
"So why are you taking him shopping?"
"To buy other stuff."
"Other stuff? What other stuff?
"Electric egg boiler, liquid soap, knickers, four alarm clocks,
vodka, five litres of olive oil, a dozen pairs of tights, a packet of
Benson & Hedges and some other odd and ends."
"What the hell does he want all that for?"
"The knickers and the vodka are for me."
"And the tights?"
"To repair the filaments in his spatial inverter."
"And the oil?"
"Fuel for something or other."
"And the egg boiler?"
"His is broken. He likes eggs."
"What're the cigarettes for? You don't smoke."
"They're for Yyerg."
"Yyerg smokes!?"
"He does now."
"When did you discover that?"
"I'd rather not say..."

She looked at Gerald pityingly from under her long eyelashes and wondered
what she'd ever seen in him. Not only was a he pompous, spineless wanker
who thought foreplay meant unzipping her jeans but now he was developing
a possessive streak and had hair growing out of his nostrils. "He's
such a knobhead," she said to herself, but I suppose I'll have
to let him shag me or he'll never leave. Gerald gazed back at her hungrily.
"She's so beautiful!" he said to himself. Her tee shirt had
ridden up over her flat stomach and her small breasts strained against
the thin fabric.
This time she didn't resist and let him plunge his tongue into her throat.
Gerald slipped off her bra and kissed her taut breasts. She took off
her jeans as his tongue circled her nipples and moved slowly down her
belly. She moaned convincingly and arched her back. Then he was on top
of her, his hands tugging at her panties. Ten minutes later it was all
over and Gerald lay in her arms.

"That was wonderful, darling," she said.
"Promise you won't have sex with the alien again," he asked.
"I only did it because of the chocolate," she said.
"Chocolate?"
"Didn't you notice what he was doing in the car?"
"No."
"The chocolate hobnobs made him shag my handbag."
"Chocolate hobnobs?"
"Chocolate's like sex."
"So you've often told me."
"No, you don't get it. Chocolate makes them uncontrollably randy.
I had to do something to stop him shagging every piece of furniture
in the flat."
"So that was all there was to it?"
"Yes," she lied prettily, crushing her lips against his.
"So you've thrown out all the chocolate?"
"Yes," she lied again.
"So where is he now?"
"Running my bath."
"As long as that's all he does."
"That depends on whether Portia brings any chocs with her..."
"Romola!"